TRIGGER WARNING: MENTIONS OF CHILD MOLESTATION/CHILD ABUSE. It doesn't go into detail, but this chapter is centered around the topic. Please keep yourselves safe. You know your triggers better than I do.

Thank you for reading this story. It means the world to me.

~Isabelle

I don't scream, though I know it's wrong

I just play along

I lie there and breathe

Lie there and breathe

~The Dark I Know Well, Spring Awakening

Chapter Fourteen: The Dark I Know Well, Part 1

She cried out as she landed wrong on the ice. Her ankle crumpled underneath her and she fell to the ground. Tears sprang to her eyes, but she struggled to hold them back. She couldn't show any weakness, even during practice, even to her parents. Especially to her parents.

The coach skated up to her and knelt down beside her. "Hey, Little Snowflake, it's okay. We'll get it checked out for you." He put his hand on her ankle, the bare skin of his palm meeting the fabric of her tights for which she was grateful. She was less grateful as the hand rubbed up and down. What might have been a soothing gesture from most adults filled her with dread, the copper taste of pennies in the back of her throat.

Unbidden, tears spilled down her cheeks.

"Come now, no tears. What do we say, Elsa? Conceal..."

She took a shuddering breath. "Conceal, don't feel. Don't let it show."

He smiled as he helped her to her feet, wrapping his arm around her waist. In a few minutes, he would take her off of the ice and to the physical therapist's office, would get her ice and hold it to her ankle while her parents took their time getting to the rink. He would be nice and kind and gentle, like he was when they first met. He would be the kind of man that her parents thought he was, the one that he played whenever people were watching. But right now, he let his fingers drift. She shuddered with revulsion. Her tears came faster, hotter on her skin.

He was a monster, but only to her.

Conceal, don't feel. Don't let it show. Conceal, don't feel. Don't let it show. Conceal, don't feel.

Don't let it show.

And she didn't.

Elsa bolted up in bed, breathing hard. The nightmares were getting worse, and she couldn't stop them. She couldn't stop the memories that came with them. She couldn't stop anything.

The first time Elsa met Duke Weselton, she was four years old. Her parents had taken her and Anna to the skating rink, though it was Anna's first time skating at only one year old. Elsa was towing Anna along after her, the two girls giggling uncontrollably. To make Anna laugh more, Elsa let go to do a series of twirls, making her skirt flow around her. After a few more minutes of skating, Elsa skated Anna back to their parents, where a short man was talking to them.

Iduna looked over at the girls, her eyes bright. "Elsa, this is Duke Weselton. He's a figure skating coach." Anna squealed happily and fell down on her bottom. Elsa looked at the man with a little confusion. He knelt down beside her and smiled kindly.

"You've got real talent, Elsa. I'd like to help you become a better skater. Teach you moves and routines, enroll in skating competitions. Would you like that?" he said. Elsa thought about it a moment. She looked over at her parents who were beaming proudly. She looked back to the man.

"Okay," she'd said.

Now, Elsa shook her head furiously. "No, no, no, no, no!"

It was after her first competition. She had won first place, and her parents were ridiculously happy. Iduna was clearly meant to be a show mother.

"I'm so proud of you, Elsa! Why don't we go get pizza to celebrate?" she offered. Elsa enthusiastically agreed and went into the dressing room to change out of her costume. Usually, Iduna went with her, but Agnarr was unable to come and Anna had been having a meltdown. But Elsa knew it would be fine.

I'm a big girl, Mama, she said, I can change by myself.

She had just unzipped the zipper, with great difficulty, when she felt him behind her.

Coach? Elsa whipped around, confused.

He smiled kindly at her. I thought you could use some help.

You're not supposed to be in here.

Don't worry. It can be our little secret, Elsa. Wouldn't that be fun?

Elsa stood powerless as he stepped closer to her. She couldn't form words, make sounds, anything. She just stood there, frozen.

Let's play a game, he told her. It's called, 'Conceal, Don't Feel.' We don't want anyone to know about this, do we?

Numbly, Elsa shook her head. She let him pull out her clothes, dress her in the t-shirt and leggings her mother had picked out earlier in the day. He acted as if nothing had happened. And if he said nothing happened, then did anything really happen? Who would believe her?

It was best to conceal it and hope that it never happened again. But of course it did.

Elsa forced herself out of her bed. It was early in the morning, still dark out. She felt stifled, constricted in her bedroom, in the house. But she knew she wasn't allowed outside without Marshall, and she didn't want to worry him. Panic attacks happened; she could handle them.

Elsa hurried downstairs to the kitchen. She pulled open cabinet doors, unable to remember which one held the glasses. Finally, she found it. She grabbed a glass, clear and crystalline, and filled it to the brim with water from the faucet. She drank greedily, water dribbling down her chin.

It wasn't enough.

Elsa refilled the cup and drained it once more. Then again. She didn't think she could stand any more water, but she was so thirsty. Was she usually this thirsty? She set the glass down on the counter and sank to the floor, pulling her knees up to her chest and burying her head in her hands.

Quietly, without warning, Elsa began to sob.

Weselton never touched her when her parents were around. He was smart enough for that. He was very smart about it, to get away with it for nearly four years. He convinced Elsa that what he was doing was shameful for her, that her parents would be mad at her if she ever told. So they played the game, "Conceal, Don't Feel," and it continued. Elsa was very good at the game.

She continued to improve in her skating career, winning nearly every competition she partook in. A part of her believed that if she won, maybe Weselton would leave her alone, but that was never the case.

As the years passed and Anna grew older, Elsa began to notice Weselton's attention shifting. Anna wasn't as good on the ice as Elsa, didn't even really want to get on the ice unless Elsa was there with her, but Weselton was convincing.

She just needs some lessons, and she'll be right up there with Elsa. Can you imagine the skating duo, two sisters? He painted a picture that their parents loved. But Elsa knew what he was really doing. He was beginning to groom Anna the way he had Elsa.

And while Elsa may not have had enough strength to save herself, she had more than enough to protect her baby sister.

There were footsteps.

Elsa managed to calm down, to regain control of her breath. When she finally looked up from her hands, she saw Anna standing in the doorway to the kitchen. Her younger sister stared at her in concern, worry etched into every feature of her face.

"Elsa?" she asked.

"I'm fine," Elsa said. Anna said nothing. She simply walked into the kitchen and slid down beside Elsa. They sat in silence for a few minutes. Elsa's breath caught every now and then, her body wanting to break down once more, but she managed to stay calm. She didn't want to worry Anna anymore than she already had.

Unfortunately, Anna was plenty worried. "Elsa, what happened?"

Elsa wasn't sure what Anna was referring to. What happened today, at Anna's birthday party? At the house beforehand? What happened last week, last month? What happened all those years ago? What happened to Weselton, what happened to their family, what happened to her?

Elsa wasn't sure, if she was being honest.

It broke when Elsa saw Weselton put his hand on Anna's lower back. Elsa screamed and ran at him, hitting him repeatedly and yelling for him not to touch her. Their parents were confounded, until Elsa finally admitted what had been happening for years.

Two days later, Duke Weselton was arrested and being held without bond, thanks to her father's influence.

Elsa saw therapists. They talked to her about what happened. Gave her dolls to 'show where the bad man touched her' and other things like that. Elsa hated those therapists, but she knew that she had to do it. She knew that she had to be honest if she didn't want Weselton to get Anna. So Elsa told them everything that she could remember, described it in detail. The worst part was when it went to trial, and she had to tell it in front of all of those people, especially the mean lawyer who acted like she was a stupid kid.

When Weselton was sentenced to life in prison, Iduna wept. Agnarr seemed to age ten years. And Anna had no idea what was happening. She wasn't allowed to attend the court sessions. That was fine with Elsa; she didn't want Anna to see her like this anyway.

It was after the trial, after the courts and the therapy and everything, that Elsa's parents came to her and sat her down. They told her that they thought it would be best if she was sent to a boarding school in Europe, one that would allow her to focus on her school work and her skating career without outside distractions. It was all girls.

We think it will help you heal, Agnarr said. Iduna agreed silently, nodding her head. Not knowing what to say, Elsa allowed it. She was only eight years old. Who was she to deny her parents? And it would be best for Anna, to be away from Elsa. Fucked up Elsa, the girl who had been sexually abused and kept it hidden. They both needed a new life: Elsa needed to feel safe, and Anna needed someone who could keep her safe.

"Anna," Elsa croaked, shaking away the memories. Why were they all coming back all of a sudden? Why couldn't they stay buried behind the dam, as they always were? "Please, you don't know what you're asking."

Anna huffed. Elsa knew that that wasn't the answer that she was looking for.

"Why are you being so secretive? You and Mama and Papa. Just tell me what's going on," Anna demanded. Tears gathered in the corners of Elsa's eyes.

"I can't," she said. Elsa got to her feet. She spared one last, sad look at Anna before walking back upstairs to her room. Once there, she picked up her phone and called the one person who had been there for her, no matter what, the past ten years.

Elsa had flown all the way to Arendelle Academy by herself. Her parents hadn't been able to come with her, as they'd insisted that Anna not go as well. Elsa was fine with it. It had been a long time since she had had to grow up; what was one international trip without her parents?

A school chaperone picked her up from the airport. It was a kind lady with long brown hair who introduced herself as Elinor.

I have a daughter your age, she told Elsa conversationally as they picked up her bags and carried them through the airport. She's much more tomboyish. Maybe she can learn a thing or two from you.

Elsa said nothing, just as she was taught. She was polite and proper, with perfect posture as her skating background dictated. The lady seemed a little strange, but Elsa liked her all the same. She was beginning to feel somewhat comfortable as they approached the woman's car. That was when the girl with the brilliant red hair jumped out.

Mam, you said this wouldn't take long! The girl complained. Elsa started, surprised at the sudden appearance and the voluminous amount of hair. The girl's head looked like a cartoon sun, her red mane the rays around the sunshine face. Though the face was usually smiling happily instead of scowling.

Merida, that is not how we greet people. This is Elsa. Say hello, Elinor ordered. The girl huffed and turned to Elsa. She gave her an appraising look.

Who are you supposed to be? She asked. Elsa was slightly confused, as Elinor had just said her name, but shrugged it off.

I'm Elsa Winters, she told the girl, Merida. Merida huffed again and looked up to the sky in exasperation.

No, I mean, who are you supposed to be? Like, what are you going to do? Merida asked.

Elsa stared at her inquisitively. Merida sighed once more.

Like, I'm an archer, though Mam made me enroll as a figure skater. I don't really like it though. What do you do? Merida said. Elsa relaxed. This she could handle.

I'm a figure skater, too, she said proudly. Yet, as soon as she said it, she froze. Did these people know about Weselton? Were they going to ask her questions? Was she going to have to do another trial? Would she ever get away from her past?

Ah, that makes sense why Mam picked you up then, Merida said simply, with no acknowledgement of Elsa's dark past. She probably doesn't know, Elsa realized. You don't know anyone here, do you?

No, Elsa said. Merida pursed her lips in thought, then nodded once as if deciding something.

That settles it, then. We're friends, she said, as if there was no doubt about it. Elsa didn't find herself wanting to argue, however. In fact, she felt a wave of relief wash over her. Friends. Her first friend. Her only friend, really, aside from Anna.

Elinor came back then, having been packing Elsa's things into the trunk of her car.

Well, lassie, are you ready to go see your new home? Elinor asked. Elsa looked over at Merida, her friend, who gave her an encouraging smile.

Elsa smiled at Elinor. Yes, I am.

The best thing about Merida was that she didn't ask questions. Eventually, Elsa told Merida about what had happened to her as a child, and Merida had responded by threatening to beat the creep to a pulp. The knowledge that he was in jail for life did not deter her.

But when Elsa called her at four in the morning, Merida simply invited her over. She kept the door unlocked, ushered her into the family room, and turned on some trashy reality show and sat Elsa down on the sofa. She let her friend use her shoulder as a pillow, her pajama sleeve becoming wet with tears. And yet, Merida said nothing, simply let her friend cry herself to sleep.

Once the hour turned later, she sent a text to Marshall, letting him know where Elsa was. She also sent a message to her mother, urging her to give Elsa a break for the day. For some reason, the memories were back and worse than ever. And once Elsa was okay to talk about it, Merida would be there to listen.